When my husband an I went to Xcaret just outside of Cancun, the last thing we expected was a life altering experience at a Mexican amusement park. Who knew that tucked away in a little known corner of Xcaret, in an unassuming Shaman’s hut, there were unseen forces at work?
My husband and I met Eduardo on a chance encounter as we meandered through Xcaret with our tour guide Alberto.
“There is a true Mayan village, right here on the grounds of Xcaret,” Alberto of Cancun Tour Company exclaimed. “The sacred ways of the ancients are still practiced here every day.”
“Many believe the Mayan people disappeared from the earth,” he continued. “This is not so. The descendants of the Mayans remain in the Yucatan as they have for centuries.”
Just then, a shaman emerged from a stone hut. Of Mayan lineage, Eduardo was trained by his Grandfather and the Grandfathers that came before him.
With a wave, he greeted Xcaret passersby from below, shouting an invitation. “Come back at 2 pm - we will be conducting a sweat. Listen for the sound of the bell.”
I had read about the sweat lodge ceremony in the Native American custom in the US. The ancient ritual had piqued my curiosity over the years. The invitation was intriguing.
After an invigorating snorkel in the natural underground caves in Xcaret, we began our trek back to the Shaman. A sign close to the site, read “Temascal.” The origin of the Nahuatl word is “temas” for bath and “calli” for house – a place of ritual and healing. Eduardo was waiting with a welcoming smile.
There were two youthful, plump Argentinean girls participating along side my husband and myself. They did not speak a word of English and thus Eduardo along with his young assistant conducted the ceremony alternating between the Spanish and English translations.
We were introduced to the female Goddess whose statue stood guarding the stone structure. A prayer was recited to request her permission for us to enter the sacred space. Tea prepared from local plant life was served to us in turn from a tiny cup. Then we each were handed a conch shell gathered from the nearby sea and directed to blow into it with all our power. The sound signaled our readiness. Blessings bestowed, we were directed to enter a small, round dwelling made of natural rock.
In the center of the cave was a pit of hot stones. The Shaman embraced his mission and as the fire heated, the entrance was sealed. The Shaman announced we must rid ourselves of demons – the first of which is “fear.” We were asked to shout and the sound of our moans reverberated off the walls of the small enclosure.
Next, we were told to drop our “Mask.” Once again, painful noises bellowed as we felt our egos tear away. The release of guttural moans was soon followed by a hushed silence.
Slowly, the sweet sound of singing was heard. The Shaman’s voice grew stronger and soothing. He sang to mother earth and the forces of the heavens. He praised the Gods. It was no doubt a song that has been sung for Millennia. Despite the physical discomfort of the seething heat, we were transformed in that mystic moment.
Just then, with a sudden shock of frigid water, Eduardo began splashing us one by one; first with a large ladle and then from a bucket. Soaked to our skins, we departed the cave and were led to a sacred pool. We were told to submerge ourselves in the quiet relief of the still spring fed water. This process, Eduardo explained, is to cleanse ourselves from the negative forces released in the ceremony.
As we toweled dry and embraced, this time honored Shaman shared his hope that more people would show interest in Spirit to prepare for the changes coming to our world. “The Mayan long count calendar ends in 2012,” he remarked.
“Extinction or Evolution” I shared. Eduardo repeated my words.
“I like that,” he said.
“Well, I can’t claim it,” I confessed. “There are many spiritual teachers in the States talking about it. There is a fork in the road of humanity, a crossroads. The choice is ours.”
For a brief moment the Shaman and I locked eyes and the question beckoned, “When mankind meets the challenge, what path will prevail?”
Debra Mae White-Stephens, Contributing Writer
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